


You, Me and Hairy Baby

by ladyknightanka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Crack, Fluff, Innuendo, Kid Fic, M/M, Mild Gore, Norse Myths & Legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 03:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/617677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyknightanka/pseuds/ladyknightanka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a solo hunt, Sam is confronted by an odd, shape-shifting baby who brings with her eerie dreams of a certain archangel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You, Me and Hairy Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [confetticas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/confetticas/gifts).



> So. Much. Crack.
> 
> ...I'm almost sorry. Almost.

-

You, Me and Hairy Baby

-

  
  
“...Well, do you think it's a werewolf?” Dean's voice filters through the speaker on Sam's phone, the words carried on a nervous chuff of laughter that makes the line crackle.  
  
Sam stares at the baby on his bed, perfectly human now – in appearance, anyway. She kicks her tiny legs, unconfined by everything except a diaper. A moment later, fur ripples across her skin and, instead of the coos she'd been making, she barks. Actually _barks_.  
  
“I don't think so,” Sam tells Dean. “She's pulling a Stephenie Meyer. It's nothing like any werewolf I've ever seen.”  
  
“Well, hang tight. Bobby and me will wrap up this mess soon as we can. 'Least it's only a baby, right?” his brother replies. When Sam mumbles in acquiesce, Dean says, “See ya soon, Sammy. I'll call Bobby up now.” He then hangs up.  
  
The only thing is, he and Bobby are a good five states away. It'll be days before they can meet up with Sam, especially because they haven't finished their hunt yet. They can't let innocent people die just because the hairy baby Sam's stuck with is equal measures of cute and eerie. Sam wouldn't _let_ them.  
  
Outside, the sky dims like the motel's cheap lighting and stars begin to flicker. Hairy Baby yawns around ten. She's still in wolf mode, so her jaw cracks and Sam sees a couple of infant fangs growing in. He eyes them wearily, but she merely stares at him with wide, innocuous hazel eyes, as if waiting. Sam sighs and edges closer to the bed.  
  
“Tell you what, if you change back to human, I'll borrow some milk from the motel manager downstairs and put you to bed. Deal?” he asks. Hairy Baby grins at him, more gum than fang, then shifts again. Perfect, pink baby skin replaces the fur.  
  
Sam stares. He didn't think she could understand him, but for the sake of his sanity, he begins rummaging through his go bag for one of his smaller shirts, which he slips over the tight brown ringlets atop her little head, the same russet shade as her wolf's pelt. She wiggles her fingers at him and trills more sweets sounds, which inspires him to pick her up, though he sighs again. Food, clothes and shelter. He hopes no one thinks she's his, that she doesn't think he'll keep her.  
  
Not a half an hour later, despite his initial paranoia, Sam is conked out on the motel bed with Hairy Baby curled on his chest. Her body slowly rises and falls, propelled by Sam's breath. Although it's not really happy, it's content and that's enough. Sam can't vouch for Hairy Baby, but he hardly even gets content most of the time. Now, he's dreaming about flying, about riding on air the way Hairy Baby sort of is, and it's nice.  
  
It doesn't last long. _She_ comes and plucks Sam from the sky with two elongated fingernails, as if he's a fly in a kung-fu movie. She's...different. Her hair flows wild behind her, a waterfall of reddish-brown; half her body is human, the other half a mass of emerald scales that would put Dean's eyes on their most twinkly day to shame. She's athletically built like a man, should be ugly in her garb of what looks like human intestines, even terrifying, yet Sam sucks in a breath, thinking anything but.  
  
Her wide, full mouth parts to expose a maw of long white teeth. “So you're Sam Winchester,” is all she says. It feels like she's weighing him, weighing everything he offers to the world, judging his every flaw, with her hollow eyes.  
  
Sam snaps awake to a tiny hand patting his cheek. Hairy Baby smiles at him, gentle and toothless. “At least I know for sure _you_ like me,” Sam mutters, unable to shake off the unreadable woman's memory. And then Hairy Baby's eyes flash reptile green. Sam scrambles so abruptly that he almost drops her. Luckily, he doesn't scream. Too much.  
  
“She eat'cha yet?” Dean asks oh-so-helpfully on the phone, that night.  
  
Sam rolls his eyes, rocks Hairy Baby in his free arm and gives his brother a snarky status update. Hairy Baby is wearing another of his shirts, freshly changed and bathed, whereas Sam drips soap suds. It's his own fault, really. After all the surprises she'd already pulled out of her hat, why did he have to fall in the tub when she morphed into a serpent within the bubbly water?  
  
They're both ready to settle down, but he makes sure to tell her, “No funny, hairy or scaly business.” She gives his cheek a wet kiss and he doesn't melt. Honestly. Why does she have to be so cute?  
  
The woman is waiting for him the second he falls asleep. She holds out her hand. “I like you, Sam Winchester. Do you like me? Will you help me?”  
  
“With what?” he whispers. The moment before he wakes, a familiar face flashes behind his closed lids, familiar hazel eyes like Hairy Baby's, a familiar grin. Rather than the woman, it's the owner of this smug face who extends his hand this time. Sam reaches out and accepts, feels the barest shred of grace course through his fingertips, but then Hairy Baby starts to gnaw on his hair and he realizes it's time to feed her breakfast. The next night, however, the next night...  
  
...The next night, Hairy Baby is gone. Just like that. Sam props her up on the motel bed's pillows after a day touring the town, then makes much needed use of the bathroom, hoping she won't crawl around too much. He's only away a few minutes, tops. He looks around frantically upon realizing she's missing and asks every other patron of the motel questions, but she's simply spirited away, same way she spirited into his life in the first place.  
  
Sam doesn't call Dean. Dean will only say, “Good riddance.” Instead, Sam drinks and it's the influence of powerful alcohol that knocks him out this final time. Otherwise, he'd miss the barely-there weight over his heart way too much.  
  
He dreams of a candy-shop now, a sole man with his back turned to Sam behind the counter, slick hair shiny beneath the bright lights on the ceiling. There are confectioneries in all colors around them: pastel pink pops, baby blue bubblegum, peppermints pure white like the sugar within them. Sam thinks Hairy Baby would have liked it here. She'd been what, almost a year? He can vaguely remember Dean loading him up way, way back when.  
  
“She woulda dug this place, yeah,” a familiar voice answers, although Sam never spoke his statement aloud.  
  
The man at the counter turns and Sam gasps. “I knew it was you.”  
  
Gabriel smiles at him. It's a real smile, not one of his cocky leers. “Good thing one of us knew something. I was pretty confuzzled in that veil of death, to be honest,” he says.  
  
Sam scrutinizes him from head to toe. Gabriel looks as lively as ever. He even munches on a bright red lollipop that stains his lips like too many kisses. He has a good-looking vessel, Sam can admit, especially for one that has 'died' so often, but then, people can say the same about the Winchesters, can't they?  
  
“Confuzzled?” Sam mimics. He blushes immediately afterward, embarrassed not because he's basically admitted to having watched _Winnie the Pooh_ – Gabriel has apparently watched, too – but because it's the first thing to pop out of his mouth, rather than some deep and philosophical inquiry about angels' great beyond.  
  
“It's okay,” Gabriel says, leaning his elbows on the counter, “I don't like deep and philosophical, anyway. I prefer tall, dark and a little bit stupid. Not that you're not handsome, too.”  
  
Sam goes even redder, but the heat is less pleasant than it was prior. It burns through his body like Lucifer's light, till he's breathing through flared nostrils, unable to open his mouth without a curse spitting out. “What was all this? W-what was the baby about? Another prank? Was that what your whole, dramatic death scene was?”  
  
“Dad on a tortilla, _no_ ,” Gabriel replies quickly. Even though it's vehement, Sam doesn't believe him, is forced to take a step back to the exit of the candy-store, disregarding the voice in his head that tells him there's nothing out there that Gabriel doesn't _let_ exist, that Sam can never get away from an archangel without resources. The thing is, he's not sure he wants to. Gabriel proffers both of his hands, even the one with the candy, as a we-come-in-peace gesture. He starts to leave his space behind the counter. “She's my kid – kids, actually. Odin has a sick sense of humor, but at least he let 'em go. You two – you and Hairy Baby – were the only ones with enough of my grace to give me a comeback to rival Britney's.”  
  
Sam bites his lip. If Hairy Baby is Gabriel's daughter from his trickster days – and, oh God, the snake scales, the wolf form, the dead-eyed woman, it all makes sense now – then it's not too far a jump for her to have her father's grace, but Sam? “Explain,” he snaps.  
  
Gabriel deflates and perks back up in a matter of seconds. “Remember the porno I gave you chuckleheads? Well, I was _hoping_ you would see it through to the end. _You_. Not your brother. That would give to you the little bit of grace I'd stored in it. Which it did.” His lips quirk broader.  
  
Sam thinks his head will explode, he's so flushed. “So what do you want?” he demands.  
  
“You awake, that motel room bed of yours and things baby eyes shouldn't see,” Gabriel says, still grinning. “We'll get Hairy Baby back afterward. I had Aunt Kali babysit while I was in Limbo; she owed me a favor. I hope you don't mind if we call my kid somethin' else, though. I like Harriett.”  
  
Sam ponders. He thinks about hairy baby Harriett, who is apparently Gabriel's; he thinks about that porn video he watched night and day for weeks; he thinks a lot, but doesn't do it for very long. “Yeah. Yeah, let's go.”  
  
A few hours later, once they've dressed again, Gabriel pecks Sam on the lips and it's an unspoken signal for Hairy Baby to pop into his arms in a puff of talcum powder smoke. She claps her hands and looks between them. “A happy family,” Gabriel says, giving his daughter a kiss on the head, too.  
  
“A heart attack for Dean,” Sam corrects.  
  
He rolls his eyes and mutters 'jerk' when Gabriel says, “Yeah, 'specially since neither of you have seen Harriet's eight-legged pony form yet,” but deep down, Sam can be honest with himself. He's not only content, he's kind of, sort of _happy_. For now, anyhow.

  
-

And So They All Lived Happily Ever After  
(Except Dean)

-


End file.
